


Unworthy

by Byrcca



Series: Fixed It For Ya! (You Know What You Did/Didn’t Do) [5]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Beyer-verse, F/M, Missing Scene, Unworthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byrcca/pseuds/Byrcca
Summary: *SPOILERS*SPOILERS*SPOILERS*SPOILERS*SPOILERS* SPOILERS*A missing scene I wanted to see in Kirsten Beyer’s Unworthy. When she hadn’t seen Tom for a year, and her child is ill, why on earth (onVoyager?) did B’Elanna throw a dinner party on her first night back with her husband?!?





	Unworthy

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah, SPOILERS FOR THE NOVEL.
> 
> After B’Elanna and Miral are finally back with Tom on _Voyager_ , and Miral is released from sickbay, B’Elanna decides to throw a dinner party, inviting Harry (who declines because he’s busy sulking), Chakotay, Seven, Reg Barclay and the Doctor. On her first evening back with Tom after they’ve been separated for two years. After her toddler has been deathly ill with the flu because, being hidden for the first three years of her life and not getting her required immunizations, she has a crappy immune system. B’Elanna throws a dinner party. Ok. I can work with that. I think it’s bullshit, but I can work with it. 
> 
> ALSO: There’s a beautiful scene the morning after their dinner, where Tom and B’Elanna are awake in bed, just staring into each other’s eyes. B’Elanna says, “Don’t move.” imploring Tom to play hooky from work and stay in bed with her and Miral, who climbed in between them during the night.

***

Miral had spent most of the meal on B’Elanna’s lap, playing shy. She’d spent the day in sickbay being treated for the Talaxian flu, an illness she should have shrugged off had she a healthy immune system. But she didn’t, not yet, because B’Elanna had kept her secreted, kept her hidden, in order to shield her from a maniac Klingon sect intent on killing her. She’d missed required immunizations, and the regular germs she would have come in contact with had she had a normal upbringing. So, when she’d contracted what should have been a mild flu while they were visiting Neelix, it had hit her hard. It wasn’t lost on B’Elanna that in trying to protect her baby, she’d almost killed her. 

The Doctor appeared to have forgiven her; it would take a little while for her to forgive herself. And she had no idea how Tom felt about it. She’d barely seen him since she and Miral had arrived on _Voyager_ , Captain Eden had kept him busy, and aside from a few minutes in sickbay and the senior staff meeting, she hadn’t seen him until he was—finally—off shift right before dinner. Miral had already been released from sickbay, and B’Elanna had had to break the news to him that she had invited guests for dinner. At the look in his eyes, she wished she hadn’t, but she was unaccountably nervous to be alone with him and had wanted the buffer of company. Of course, she’d wanted to spend time with her old friends as well. 

Tom had taken her news with an unusual quiet, which only seemed to force home to her that he wasn’t the same man she’d married four years ago. Their enforced separation, necessary though it was to keep Miral safe, had left her feeling like her husband was a stranger. Too much had happened, too many sorrows that they’d faced alone. They’d spent more time apart since they’d married than together. 

But he hadn’t said a word about her dinner plans. She’d bathed and dressed Miral in her pyjamas while Tom had set the table and programmed the meal into the replicator. Vorik and Harry had begged off, but Seven, Chakotay, Reg Barclay and the Doctor had joined them. It had been nice. Not the same, but nice. Reg was surprisingly funny, and while Seven had been quiet and a little ‘off’, B’Elanna had been warmed by Chakotay’s steady love and acceptance. Miral had spent most of the evening in her lap, worn out and still feeling the effects of her illness (what was I thinking having guests when she’s sick?), but she had hugged Tom goodnight and allowed him to hold her and kiss her before B’Elanna put her to bed. 

She walked out of the small office she’d hurriedly converted into a bedroom to find Tom clearing the table. He looked up at her and smiled softly. “Why don’t you have a shower and change,” he suggested. “I’ll deal with this.” There was distance between them—a good four metres—but it felt like more. 

“Okay,” she agreed. She hadn’t had time for more than a quick splash of water on her face before dinner, and she realized she was looking forward to the sonic waves massaging and scrubbing her clean. It felt heavenly, and she’d been tempted to ask him to join her, but she’d been uncertain. She shut off the shower, still not comfortable wasting energy by lingering, then wrapped herself in Tom’s large, blue terry robe. The white one she’d brought back from her _stage debut_ with Kelis the poet had long ago disappeared, and she was struck again by how alien it felt to be here, on _Voyager_ with her husband. She’d looked forward to this day for so long, and now that it was finally here, it felt wrong. 

She brushed her hair and cleaned her teeth and noted the hollowness of her cheeks, and the dark circles under her eyes. And when she couldn’t put it off any longer, she walked into the bedroom. Tom wasn’t there. She had a brief flash of fear that he’d left, gone back on duty or to the holodeck or _somewhere else_ because he felt the same strangeness and didn’t want to deal with it. But she found him in the living area with a sleepy Miral on his lap, her arms wound around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder. 

“She woke up and I couldn’t get her to settle back down.” Tom looked apologetic, but B’Elanna noticed that he held her like he never wanted to let go. 

She sat beside them and Miral launched herself at her. “Mommy!”

“It’s okay,” B’Elanna said, patting her back. She looked at Tom. “Why don’t you grab your shower now? I’ll get her back to sleep.”

Tom stared at her moment, then reached to rub Miral’s back, his hand brushing over hers. He leaned over and kissed Miral’s cheek. “Okay.” He got up and walked toward the bedroom and B’Elanna closed her eyes and rocked their daughter, willing her to settle, hoping Miral’s soft warmth would have a calming effect on her own nerves. 

**

She was waiting in the bedroom when he came out of the bath, afraid that if they talked closer to Miral’s sleeping area she would wake up again. She had shown her their bed so she would know where they were if she woke in the night—when she woke in the night, B’Elanna was under no illusions that she would sleep through ‘til morning. She just hoped her timing was good and she wouldn’t walk into the middle of the argument B’Elanna knew was coming. She could feel Tom’s stress, knew he was holding something back, so she sat on the bed and brushed her hair while she waited. He had a right to his anger, she reminded herself. She had three years to make up for. 

She heard a sound and looked up to see him standing in the doorway. She was still wearing his robe, so he had a towel wrapped around his waist. His skin was damp, and his hair was dripping onto his shoulders leaving little beads of water on his skin. Some things didn’t change, after all, and she smiled. 

He’d lost weight since the last time they’d been together, and gained muscle in his arms and chest and shoulders. She hadn’t noticed, hadn’t taken a good look at him until now. He hadn’t been in such good physical shape since they’d started dating, and B’Elanna felt the pull of desire deep in her belly. 

“I love you more than air to breathe,” he said. “And that’s saying something since we’re living in a tin can hanging in a gigantic vacuum.” 

“Please don’t joke about running out of air,” she answered. She heard her voice catch and wondered if she was about to cry. 

“I want to kiss you until we run out of oxygen.”

She stood and walked toward him. “That was a rule, remember? No joking about asphyxiation.” She laughed and it turned into a sob, and suddenly Tom was blurry. 

He caught her in a big hug, and pressed her to his chest. “Hey,” he soothed, “what’s this?” He was rubbing her back much the way he had Miral’s ten minutes ago. 

She buried her nose in his neck taking in a lungful of the scent of soap and him. She’d missed his scent on her bedclothes, on her clothing. “Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want to yell at me?”

Tom pulled away and smoothed her hair, cupped her face. “Why would you think I’d want to yell at you?”

“Miral was so sick,” she began.

“B’Elanna, I’ve spent the last three months terrified that I’d never see you again, that something would go wrong. And when we found your ship on sensors in a fight with a Borg cube—”

She hiccuped a laugh. “They weren’t the Borg.”

“I didn’t know that; they looked like the Borg. And all I could think was, we faked your death in a Borg attack, and now the universe was going to make it come true.” A tear leaked from his eye and B’Elanna watched in fascination as it ran down his cheek. She reached up and scrubbed it away. He took her hand and kissed her palm, sighed against her skin. “It was my plan, too. I agreed. And if anyone should have thought about Miral missing those immunizations, it’s me.” He smiled sheepishly. “I am a trained medic. I spent three years as _Voyager’s_ nurse. Can you forgive me?”

And she lost it. She started to sob. He gathered her close and sat on the bed, and pulled her onto his lap and stroked her hair while she cried out three years of fear and longing and loss. At some point, she realized he was crying too, and that they were lying on the bed and he was kissing her, so she started to kiss him back. They made love slowly, like it was their first time (but very unlike their actual first time which had been frantic and absurdly quick). They explored each other, and rediscovered each other, worshiped each other, and gloried in the fact that they were alive and together. And when they finally slept, they were tangled in each other, and Tom’s familiar scent surrounded her.

B’Elanna woke slowly, climbing out of a dream where she and Tom and Miral were together on a planet with sunshine and green grass and tall, shady trees that swayed in the breeze. She opened her eyes to find Tom staring at her, love shining from his gorgeous blue eyes. Their daughter’s eyes. Miral had climbed in between them in the night, and Tom was resting a hand on her back. B’Elanna smiled. 

“Don’t move,” she said. 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure compels me to state that I’ve skimmed these books for the Tom and B’Elanna bits. Sadly, I found the major plot and story arc boring and not a few of the OCs dislikable. But that’s me. I do like Seven a whole lot more than I used to, so there’s that.


End file.
